


tear us in two

by sirup



Category: oneyplays, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Decisions, Just Friends right, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirup/pseuds/sirup
Summary: Some of Chris’ hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and he’s out of breath, red faced and panting. He smells of smoke and beer. DD thinks it might be the prettiest sight he’s seen all year.DD’s apartment, four bags of popcorn, a bottle of watermelon vodka, and everything Chris O’Neill did wrong that night.





	tear us in two

**Author's Note:**

> title from because i want you by placebo.

 

  

It’s movie night. Bad movie night, and maybe _,_ just maybe, this is a bad night in general, DD thinks. They get back from Matt and Ryan’s place somewhere after 2 am and DD feels like his stomach is about to burst and pour out onto the pavement with the two bags of buttery popcorn he’s consumed. Chris tries to put an arm around him and accidentally elbows him in the ribs.

“Ouch- Chris! Watch where you’re going.” DD tries, and fails, to sound serious. Chris is practically shaking next to him, giggling because he probably remembered some stupid joke Matt told him an hour ago.

“I’m trying! Oh my god, the ground’s wet. I almost fell.” He clings onto DD then, both arms tight around his waist so he can barely walk.

“I can’t walk like this!”

“I’m gonna fall and break my neck!”

“I’m calling an uber.” DD fishes his phone out of his pocket and rubs his eyes with his other hand. It’s dark, cold, and one of Chris’ hands is sneaking beneath his jacket.

 

 

“Can I sleep at your place?”

DD waits for Chris to look up at him and stop fidgeting with his jacket, but he’s too tired and achy to even start questioning why Chris wouldn’t just go to his apartment instead.

“Okay.”

Chris mumbles a _thanks_ and rests his head on DD’s shoulder. “If I fall asleep in the uber you have to carry my three hundred pound body up the stairs. I can never fall back asleep when ‘m woken up.”

Chris doesn’t fall asleep in the car – he does, however, drag half his body across DD in the backseat. Head resting on his chest, staring at Twitter on his dimly lit phone screen.

Chris is warm, heavy, damp hair tickling DD’s neck. DD doesn’t know what to do with his hands. For the first time in his life, he’s nervous around Chris, doesn’t know what to do or say. He’s drunk, tired, and Chris’ weight on top of him is like a comforting blanket. He knows this is a bad combination that will either end in awkward situations or bad decisions – and normally he’d be logical about this, but his head’s spinning and he can’t remember the last time he’s been this content.

DD looks at his phone; almost 3. He stares out the window for a moment, watching the city pass by, blurry lights making him feel even dizzier. He can’t think, doesn’t want to think right now; and makes a decision.

DD looks down and puts a hand in Chris’ hair.

Chris hums.

 

By some miracle they manage to make it up the stairs to DD’s door. The second they come to a halt Chris’ hands are on him again, sneaking past his jacket and around his middle. The lights on his floor aren’t working and DD fumbles with the keys with both hands.

Chris is babbling with his face pressed into DD’s back and DD is trying to ignore him, focusing on the keys. His vision is fuzzy at the corners and everything is pleasantly warm; it takes all of DD’s willpower not to throw the fucking keys away, turn around and kiss Chris stupid.

They finally make it inside, Chris tripping over a shoe next to the door and giggling like it’s the funniest thing that’s happened all week. DD turns around to turn the lights on and lock the door, hoping Chris can’t see his shoulders shake from trying to hold in his laughter.

“Fuck. Hey, I can see you laughing over there, by the way! C’mon over here and help me up at least, you lazy fuck.” When DD turns around, Chris is making grabby hands at him.

“You’re not an old man, you can do it, Chris.” And yet DD walks over to him, grabs hold of his wrists, and pulls him up. Chris lets himself fall into DD’s body, arms lazily wrapping around his waist, a little bit like a hug. For a brief second DD forgets how to use his hands again, before they settle on Chris’ lower back. Chris makes another humming noise, content and happy, like he could fall asleep right then and there.

 

DD knows he needs to get him to bed, needs him to sleep this off. He knows, thinks, _guesses_ that Chris doesn’t mean any of this and just gets extra clingy when he’s drunk. DD puts an arm around Chris and tries to half-carry him to the couch.

DD knows Chris doesn’t like him that way.

Chris kisses him when they stop in the middle of the living room.

He misses DD’s mouth and tries again. DD freezes, puts both hands on Chris’ face, and pulls him back so they’re looking at each other.

“Is this okay?” Chris has one of those stupid half-grins going on, and it’s driving DD insane. He pulls him back in and shoves his doubts as far back into his brain as possible.

The angle’s off and kissing Chris reminds him a little bit of a dog licking his face. It feels slightly better when Chris gets a hand on the back of DD’s neck, fingers scratching, searching roaming. DD does the same and twists Chris’ hair between his fingers, pulls. Chris makes a noise and it hits DD so hard he almost breaks in half, willpower flushed out of his body with alcohol.

Chris bites down on DD’s lower lip and suddenly, forcefully, like a hit to the chest, DD feels a pang of fear, that Chris is just pranking him or that he’s gonna stop talking to him once he’s sober. DD can’t think straight, he’s wobbly on his feet and thinks he’s gonna fall backwards when he feels both of Chris’s arms around his lower back, steadying him.

“The first time we met, the first time I saw you – I thought I was being set up. For real!” Chris laughs, and it makes DD laugh, despite his thoughts, despite everything. He nods for Chris to continue.

“You’re so smart and always talked about shit with me I didn’t even understand, I thought- I thought you were some 40 year old really greasy balding guy. But then we met up, and you’re like, tall and hot. That fucked me up so much, ‘cause I never look at guys like _that,_ and I jerked off thinking about you when I got home.” Chris stumbles over the words, looks away like he’s embarrassed which DD knows he isn’t, and something moves in DD’s stomach, grows hot. He’s hit with- relief, endless relief that _oh, he doesn’t think I’m a creep, oh, this isn’t a joke to him._ And yet- one part of DD is still worried. He swallows it down, stores it away, can’t be bothered to think about it right now.

Chris is still giggling when DD presses a kiss to his mouth, like he can’t stop, mouth stretched into the stupidest grin.

“Am I the first guy you jerked off to?”

“Yes!”

DD looks at him.

“That’s kind of an honor, then.”

Chris just grins at him. “Well, there _was_ this one time I was watching porn, and this chick was blowing this handsome dude, really tall, pasty- like you! He distracted me so much, by the end of it I didn’t know if I blew my load for the girl or the guy.”

 

DD doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or the sleepiness fogging up his brain, but something about that dumb little story is so endearing, so very _Chris_ , it makes his heart swell a tiny, tiny bit.

Then Chris is kissing him again, open mouthed and honest, puts his tongue and spit and _whole body_ into it, like he means it. He sways a little and slows down, dizzy spell from the alcohol. DD doesn’t think he knows what he’s doing.

He tries to guide him a little, both hands on Chris’ face, grounding him. Chris puts his hand back on DD’s neck and digs his blunt fingernails in, a dull pressure, like a button that makes DD say Chris’ name every time he pushes it. Chris walks them backwards and then they’re sprawled out on the couch, laughing at their limbs tangling. They readjust, and Chris flops down on top of DD, grinning like an idiot two inches away from his face.

DD looks at him, _really_ looks at him, and realizes just how drunk Chris actually is. His speech is slurred, his movements clumsy. He takes the fingers of DD’s left hand into his mouth and explores them with his tongue. It tickles, feels weird, and DD wonders if Chris intended for this to be sexy. Chris is a mess, hair all over the place, greasy, the spit he can’t keep in his mouth running down DD’s fingers.

And yet, DD wants him. In his bed, his space, all over him. Sad and desperate, DD pulls Chris closer, takes his fingers out of his mouth and kisses him. He tastes of beer with hints of vodka, bitter and sharp and gross. It’s perfect.

Chris can’t seem to stop moving, his hands constantly grabbing at DD’s shirt, legs shifting over and over again, shaky fingers pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling. The kiss turns sloppy until it’s just Chris breathing against DD’s mouth, giggling like DD just told him the funniest joke. It turns into mindless begging, pleading, Chris asking DD for something he doesn’t know. Keeps saying _please, please_ , but nothing ever follows.

“You should go to bed. You should- you’re so out of it. Go to sleep. How’s that sound?”

Chris snorts and hugs all his limbs around DD, holding him in place. Like an octopus. “’M fine. I feel fine. I’m not- stupid. I’m not a baby. I know what I’m doing.”

Chris kisses DD’s nose then, laughing, kissing upwards until he’s covering his forehead in kisses. It’s loud, and wet.

“Gross.” DD says. Chris laughs some more. He guides DD’s hands to his waist, under his shirt, to his belly.

“Will you touch me? C’mon, just- please, fuck.”

Chris looks so frustrated then, so impatient and tired. DD gives in, spreads his fingertips, and Chris shuffles closer, pressing his wet forehead into the crook of DD’s neck.

They’re both so drunk, a loud, smelly mess sprawled out on the couch. Chris keeps making tiny noises, getting louder every time DD moves his fingers over his skin, voice cracking pathetically. DD almost laughs.

 

“You need to- Julian’s asleep. He’s gonna wake up.” DD has a hand in Chris’ hair, holding him in place, trying to get him to relax a bit.

“M’sorry.” Chris says, and immediately grins, not looking very sorry at all. “Your hand-“ He starts, gesturing to DD’s fingers in his hair, leaning into the touch until DD gets it and pulls harder, “I like that.”

DD likes that too. He looks at Chris and wonders how they got here. He’s a mess, they’re both a mess, and they’re both gonna regret this tomorrow. Some of Chris’ hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and he’s out of breath, red faced and panting. He smells of smoke and beer. DD thinks it might be the prettiest sight he’s seen all year.

Chris sits up on DD’s thighs and tries to pull his shirt up and over his head. He gets stuck, makes a noise, and DD reaches up to help him. Chris is flushed, splotches of red covering his cheeks, crawling up to his ears and down his chest. He’s hot to the touch like he’s running a fever, clumsy and needy when he starts pulling on DD’s shirt. He gives up trying to get it over DD’s head and just pushes it up to his armpits, hands wandering from his chest to the soft give of his belly. DD watches him, studies him, sighs when he feels Chris lean down to rest his warm cheek on his stomach. His stubble tickles the sensitive flesh there and it makes DD squirm and put a hand in Chris’ hair.

DD breathes, stares up at the ceiling, and watches as his blurry vision makes colors dance every time he blinks. He feels Chris’ hot breath on his abdomen, wet, damp, and kinda gross. His nose is runny and he can feel Chris’ tongue. DD doesn’t know if he’s going to blow him or wipe his snotty nose on his stomach.

DD whines, and it’s pathetic, pathetic that he’s thought about this before, and pathetic that he’s too weak to stop it because he’s only capable of thinking with his dick when he’s intoxicated. A noise interrupts his trainwreck of an attempt to form a coherent thought and he looks down.

Chris is snoring.

He’s snoring, and he’s drooling, cheek smushed against DD’s tummy. DD should be annoyed, or relieved, or both, but through everything – he just feels content.

“Oh, Chris.” he says, quietly, smiling to himself like a stupid idiot. As if anything except maybe a marching band could wake him up right now.

DD tries to reach for the blanket that’s been thrown over the back of the couch- but he gives up after three seconds of stretching his fingers and comes to the conclusion that he can just use Chris as his blanket. He fumbles a bit, reaches his arms around Chris so he won’t fall off, and dozes off.

 

When DD wakes up, Chris isn’t there anymore, and the thumping ache in the base of his skull pretty much makes him wish he was dead. He must’ve said it out loud, because he can hear Julian yelling at him to not be so dramatic from the kitchen. The sharp smell of coffee draws him there, and Julian’s leaning against the counter, slurping his coffee, watching Chris put his jacket on. DD steps past him and grabs a mug.

 

“Hey, um, sorry, I would’ve- but I should’ve showed up at work about half an hour ago, which is, uh, kinda bad.” Chris laughs a little and gives him an apologetic smile, and DD gets it, he knows his schedule. He almost feels sorry for him when he sees the size of Chris’ eyebags and how pale he is.

Chris gestures towards the door then, still looking at DD and half-smiling like he’s waiting for something, anything. After a moment of questionable silence he lets his hands fall to his sides and starts walking towards the hallway. DD’s fixated on his mug when he feels Julian tug on his shirt. He looks down at him and holds in his laugh as he watches Julian point towards the door, mouthing for him to _go after Chris_.

He nods, puts his mug on the counter, and meets Chris in the hallway, folding his arms and leaning against the wall next to him. Chris finishes putting on his shoes and opens the door.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you last night. Sorry, also, that I’m leaving, I really would’ve- but I gotta-“

“Chris, I know, it’s fine. It’s okay. “ DD smiles at him, honest, and he means it, he gets it. Chris smiles back.

“Okay.”

Chris leans forward and kisses him, not half assed, and not a peck, but a real, genuine kiss. It’s bitter like coffee and DD’s so shocked he forgets to close his eyes. As soon as it’s over he’s out the door, leaving DD there, heart hammering in his chest and cheeks warm. Maybe, just _maybe_ , he meant it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me complaining about these boys on twitter @superjaii, or drawing questionable content on cometfucker.tumblr


End file.
